


Would You Be So Kind (As to Fall In Love With Me)

by bazzledazzlewriting



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Normal AU, Punk/Pastel, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazzledazzlewriting/pseuds/bazzledazzlewriting
Summary: Simon Snow doesn’t remember quite when he fell in love with Baz. Maybe it was when he first met him, running gracefully across the football field with his hair tied up. Or maybe it was when they were playing video games at a sleepover and Baz’s leg bumped against his, sending a thumping pulse through his heart. Or maybe it was this year, when Baz came out to him and Simon realized he had a chance.They’ve been friends since the beginning of High School, but Simon longed for something more.-----For @absolute-nightmare as part of the Carry On Exchange!!
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 5
Kudos: 198





	Would You Be So Kind (As to Fall In Love With Me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [absolutenightmare03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/absolutenightmare03/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy @absolute-nightmare!! I tried my best to write this one, even though I'm a little rusty on my writing. The title is from the song Would You Be So Kind by Dodie!! 
> 
> Enjoy! :)
> 
> \---
> 
> Also: Slight trigger warrning there is a mention of alcohol abuse and a tad bit of emotional abuse but it's very minor. Just one paragraph

Simon Snow and Baz Pitch were polar opposites, anyone could see that. 

Anyone who spared a glance at the odd pair knew this, from Baz’s obnoxious floral shirts and well maintained hair, to Simon’s haggard appearance and leather jacket.They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, complimenting each other, like Persephone and Hades, or yin and yang. Despite everything; who they were, where they came from, and what they looked like, they still were inseparable. They matched. 

Simon Snow doesn’t remember quite when he fell in love with Baz. Maybe it was when he first met him, running gracefully across the football field with his hair tied up. Or maybe it was when they were playing video games at a sleepover and Baz’s leg bumped against his, sending a thumping pulse through his heart. Or maybe it was this year, when Baz came out to him and Simon realized he had a chance. 

They’ve been friends since the beginning of High School, but Simon longed for something more. He laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, his heart thrumming in his chest. He thought of Baz’s inky black hair and thought about what it might feel like to run his fingers through it. He thought about how he always smelled like something citrusy and crisp, like Earl Grey tea that made Simon wish for a soft, domestic morning with him full of soft kisses and morning tea. 

And Simon hated it. No, hate wasn’t the strong enough. He  _ loathed _ it. He loathed it because here was someone who was completely and utterly perfect, someone he actually had a shot with that wouldn’t care that he’s a guy and knows him inside and out, but for some reason Simon kept holding himself back. He held himself back, not daring to test the waters of their friendship and ruin what they had. He didn’t want to lose Baz as a friend, crush or not. He refused. 

So Simon kept his crush bottled away deep down inside him, not daring to let it see the sunshine. He thought that maybe, if he tucked it away, he might be able to shake off these feelings. Maybe they would dissipate and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Maybe it would work. 

————

“We need to find Si a girlfriend,” Agatha says at lunch, her face screwed with determination. Simon sighs, putting down the scone he was eating. 

“Ags, please tell me you’re not on this again.”

“Oh she totally is,” Penny says, waving a hand dismissively. “And she has a point. You’ve been moping about like a sad puppy lately saying you’re lonely and want a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t say I wanted a girlfriend,” Simon says, stabbing a strawberry with a fork.

“A boyfriend, then,” Penny says, not a hint of a question in her voice. Simon almost chokes. 

“Pen. I don’t need a relationship.” 

“Then why do you keep moaning about being single?” Agatha says with a condescending tilt in her brow. Simon huffs, averting his gaze. 

“Because I want a boyfriend.” 

“Aha! I knew it.” Penny grins victoriously. “Now come on. You have to have a crush on someone. Give us some ideas.”

“I don’t like anyone, Pen.”

“What about that one kid? Rhys I think it was?” Simon scrunches his nose. 

“Right. Not him. What about Phillipia?” 

“Oh god no.” 

“Right. Hmm....” A chair beside Simon moves out and a lunch tray plops down on the table as Baz slides in next to him. He’s wearing a pink shirt with red roses on it and dark jeans that make Simon flush. He pushes his hair out of his eyes, a smile on his lips as he looks at Simon. His gaze lands on Penny and he sighs. 

“What are you three up to this time?” 

“Who says we’re up to something?” Agatha says, leaning over the table with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“Bunce has that look in her eyes and Snow just looks lost, so obviously you’re hatching an elaborate scheme.”

“We’re trying to find someone for Simon to date,” Penny says, tapping her fingers against the table. 

“Ah. Good luck with that. It would take some pretty skilled matchmakers to find someone to date Snow.”

“Hey! I could be a good boyfriend.” 

“I have no doubt.” The look in Baz’s eyes is... intense. Simon has no idea how he should read it. 

“Hey Baz, you’re gay right?” Agatha pipes in. Baz snorts. 

“Does this have a point?” 

“I mean, you’re gay and single, Simon’s single and somewhat into dudes.... you know you guys probably could....” Agatha gestured vaguely. Simon’s heart starts to beat out of his chest, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. His stomach twists dangerously and he feels like he might puke.  _ Fuck _ .

Baz rolls his eyes. “Ok, Wellbelove.” They move on to a new topic, Penny rambling about some book she read and Baz seeming completely invested in the conversation. But one thing sticks in Simon’s mind even after lunch. 

Baz didn’t say no. 

——————

When Simon gets to Baz’s car after school that day, Simon immediately knows what he’s going to say. It’s obvious in the way his brow scrunches in concern as Simon runs his hands through his messy curls. 

“Is your lip bleeding?” Baz says, reaching out his hand towards Simon’s cheek, then pulling it back. 

“It’s fine,” Simon mumbles, even though it isn’t. It’s the second time this month this has happened. 

“Simon...” Baz says in that soft voice, the one he saves for when it’s just the two of them. He picks up Simon’s hand, running his thumb over Simon’s knuckles that are cracked and bleeding, rough from countless fights. They’re all over stupid things, but Simon can’t seem to stop himself. He can’t just turn away when someone corners him, calling him names. He can’t just keep walking when he sees some kid picking on another kid in the halls. And he definitely can’t stop himself when he hears people throwing homophobic comments about Baz behind his back. 

“What happened?” Baz says, looking at him with the same sternness he always uses in these situations. Simon huffs. 

“Just some kid. It’s not important.” But it is. Because it wasn’t just some kid. It was some kid gossiping about Baz, saying mean, hurtful things. It was some kid who, when Simon told him to stop, taunted him and called Baz his boyfriend, not realizing that that’s all Simon’s ever wanted. It was some kid who threw the first punch, not realizing that Simon has done this before, and he wasn’t scared. 

Baz sighs, squeezing Simon’s hand in his. It makes his heart leap, beating so fast that he wondered if maybe this would be the moment. Maybe he’d confess to Baz, announcing his undying love, and Baz would say he felt the same way too, and then they’d kiss in the school parking lot on the hood of Baz’s expensive car, their future set from here on out. 

Baz pulls his hands away, grabbing his keys from his pocket. “Get in the car, you nightmare. We’re going to the mall.” Simon groans. 

“Again? You were just there yesterday.”

“Yes but the Christmas present I got for Mordelia is something she already has so I have to return it and get a new one. Please? You know you’re better than me at picking presents for her.” 

“Alright, fine. But you’re buying me a pretzel.”

“Fine.” 

—————

Christmas break was at the end of the week, and Simon didn’t want it to come. Well, he did, because it would mean a break from the mountains of school work he had, but he also didn’t, because it meant it would be a lot less time with his friends and a lot more time with his father, pretending they weren’t a dysfunctional family. 

Simon’s father wasn’t terrible. He never hit him, but he also wasn’t the best. He was drunk a lot of the time and was always yelling about how much of a disappointment Simon was. He didn’t like that he didn’t make the football team and he hated that Simon’s grades were just barely passing. None of Simon’s victories seemed like victories to him, and Simon was just done with it. He wanted to find a way to be away from the house as much as possible during break, but he also knew that his friends had families that they needed to be with for the holidays, too. 

Nonetheless, when Simon came home on Friday night to his dad drunk in the living room, mumbling incoherently, he turned right around and called Baz. 

Baz picked up on the second ring. 

“Hey is everything ok?” 

“Do you want to go out for dinner,” Simon says in a rush. Baz coughs. 

“Um—“

“I mean— not out— I mean, yes, I just-” Simon huffs. “Can we hang out tonight? I know it's the last minute and all that but I just... I don’t want to go home.” Baz doesn’t hesitate. 

“I’ll be at your house in five.” 

————

This, in Baz’s opinion, was one of the worst parts of being gay. Yes, there were the homophobes and the bullies and his not at all accepting father, but he could deal with that. He could tune them out until all that was left was white noise. 

But this, this was something Baz couldn’t ignore. How was he supposed to handle a crush on his best friend? If he asked Simon out directly, it could backfire on him and he’d ruin the friendship they spent four years building up. But if he didn’t say anything, he obsessed over his crush, picking apart every little detail of his interactions with Simon wondering if maybe, maybe Simon might feel the same towards him. 

So when Simon called him at 5pm, asking if he wanted to go out to dinner, Baz was left wondering how to interpret it. It was probably just the same old “I’m lonely and I need someone to hang out with.” But if that were the case, why didn’t Simon call Agatha or Penny? He was much closer to them. Or why not suggest a sleepover with everyone? Or invite everyone to dinner? The more and more they hung out alone, the more Baz drove himself crazy wondering. 

Maybe he was blowing it out of proportion, but it still didn’t stop his beating heart as he pulled into Simon’s driveway. Simon climbed in, his curls wild and free and his blue eyes piercing through the darkness. He smiled his warm smile at Baz, a smile that was full of dimples and sunshine and made Baz's heart do belly flops.

“Where to?” Baz asks, putting the car in reverse. Simon’s eyes light up. 

“iHop.” 

————————

Simon drowned his fifth pancake in maple syrup and butter. He asked for more butter a while ago and they brought him a plate full of the stuff. He slathered it on his golden pancakes, laying down a thick layer of white saturated fat. 

It was absolutely disgusting. 

When Baz became friends with Simon at the beginning of freshman year, he learned to look away when Simon was eating. He was a little messy and lacked more than a few table manners, but it wasn’t terrible. None of Simon’s eating habits were awful, save for the unholy slathering of butter. Baz didn’t understand it, nor did he want to. 

“I think there’s more butter and syrup on that pancake than actual pancake.” Simon swallows his bite, grinning toothily at Baz. 

“It’s delicious though.” 

“Disgusting.” Yet Baz still couldn’t help but think about how beautiful Simon’s dopey grin was and the way his cheeks turned red. 

“You wanna try a bit?” Simon asks, holding up a fork with a bit of pancake on it. Syrup slowly dropped from it, golden brown like Simon’s curls. Baz wrinkled his nose. 

“I think I’ll skip on that, thanks.” Simon shrugs, continuing to shovel food in his mouth. Baz ordered some eggs, but Simon ended up eating more of them than he did. Baz never had much of an appetite, but Simon’s seemed never-ending. 

“You excited for Christmas?” Simon asks, looking up at Baz with his plain blue eyes. Baz snorts. 

“Not particularly, but I’ll get by.” Simon frowns. 

“Your dad?” Baz runs a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, but what else is new.” Simon reaches out across the table, taking Baz’s hand in a comforting manner. Baz gulps. 

“Guess we both god shitty fathers, huh?” Baz offers a weak smile. 

“Guess so.” Simon bites his lip, as if thinking. His eyes spark in the way they do when he gets an idea or is about to make an impulse decision. 

“Hey we should try to hang out over break! Get away from family and stuff, you know?” Baz smiles. 

“Yeah.” Simon taps his fingers against the wooden table. 

“How do you feel about going to see a movie on Monday?”

——————

It’s not a date. 

Obviously it’s not a date. There will never be a universe where Simon Snow asks Baz Pitch out on a date other than in Baz’s dreams. 

So why was Baz stressing over his outfit for the past hour? He honestly had no idea. 

Nothing he tried on seemed to work. Some stuff looked like he was trying too hard, others looked like he wasn’t trying hard enough. It was honestly too much work considering that they were just friends going to see a movie together in the dark where they won’t be able to see each other anyway so theoretically what they wear doesn’t even matter, but Baz was Baz and he had to be extra about everything. 

Eventually he settled on a light grey button down and a pair of jeans. It wasn’t one of his best outfits, but it was casual enough for him that it didn’t seem like he was trying too hard. Even though he spent an hour on his hair alone. 

The drive over to Simon’s house was shorter than Baz would’ve liked. He didn’t have enough time to organize his thoughts before he was in the driveway, watching as Simon locked the door behind him and bounded down the front steps of his house, his hair bouncing off his forehead. He was wearing a worn grey sweater and tattered jeans. He looked slightly like a disaster, but that didn’t stop Baz’s heart from pounding. In fact, he found it almost endearing. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t make fun of him, though. 

“Snow your sweater sleeves have holes in them for god's sake,” Baz says as Simon shuts the car door behind him. Simon smiles back at him. 

“It’s comfy though.” Baz rolls his eyes, a hint of a smile on his face. They lapse into a comfortable silence as Baz pulls out of the driveway and onto the street. Simon fiddles with the radio, turning the dial until he finds a song he likes. Some American song starts playing and a guitar solo fills the car. Simon starts to mumble along to the lyrics, bobbing his head and tapping his fingers against his legs. He smiles, getting more and more into it. Baz flashes him a look as he bursts into chorus, singing at the top of his lungs. Baz laughs, shaking his head. The song finishes and Simon grins, his eyes wild and bright. 

This goes on for a few more songs, with Simon obviously trying to get Baz to join in on his shenanigans. Baz refuses, but can’t seem to help himself once  _ Bohemian Rhapsody  _ starts playing. Simon’s smile only seems to get more dazzling. 

They make it to the movie theater, already buzzing and laughing. Simon skips ahead of Baz, the sun catching in his bronze curls as he turns to him, almost creating a sort of halo around him. 

Their hands brush as they head to the ticket line and Baz wonders if he might be dreaming. 

_____________

So  _ Love, Simon _ may have not been the best movie to go see on Simon’s not-date with Baz. For starters, Baz started crying halfway through. 

In retrospect, Simon should’ve expected this outcome, even though he didn’t realize Baz was a crier. The entire plot of the movie is something that resonated with so many people, especially people like Baz and… well, he guesses himself, even though he’s not really sure what he is. 

Simon never knows how to deal with someone who’s crying. Back when he used to date Agatha, there would be times where she’d have a breakdown over something and everytime Simon felt like he was making the situation worse instead of helping. He’s not cut out for this. 

Tentatively, he reaches out to Baz, taking his hand. They’re rougher and boneier than Simon’s, and a lot longer. He blushes as Baz looks over at him. Baz squeezes his hand and Simon feels his heart stutter in his chest, faltering for a moment as their eyes connect. 

They don’t let go for the rest of the movie. 

________________

“Pen. I have an issue.” 

________________

“Ags….. we have a slight problem.” 

_________________

“What is it Si? Is it that math test? I told you you have it down you just need to breathe and remember what we worked on.”

_______________

“Since when do you not have a problem, Baz? You’re literally a bigger Drama Queen than me.” 

_______________

“No Pen…. it’s not that it’s just….” 

_______________

“This is a real problem, Agatha, listen—“

————————-

“I kind of, maybe, sort of, possibly—“ 

————————

“I may or may not have—“

______________

“Have a crush on Baz.” 

_______________

“Fallen in love with Simon.” 

______________

Agatha huffs, hanging up the phone after listening to a 30 minute rant on Baz’s part about how perfect Simon’s hair is and the specific shade of blue his eyes are.  _ Honestly _ . 

Immediately, the phone rings again. Grunting, Agatha picks it up, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Baz I swear to god if I hear one more word about Simon holding your hand I will end you.” 

“So he did call you?”

“Penny!”

“Let me guess. You just got off the phone with Baz and his emo bullshit about how Simon will never love him.” 

“How did you know?” Penny sighs. 

“Because. I just got off of the phone with Simon and his emo bullshit about how Baz will never see him as anything other than a friend.”

“They’re idiots, aren’t they?”

“Yep.” There’s a moment of silence. 

“Are we going to intervene?”

“Of course we are.” 

________________

All things considered, Baz knew the love letter was a bad idea. He knew the unspoken rule about love letters: if you weren’t planning on sending them, you shouldn’t write them. 

But they were a great way to get out frustrations. It was a way for Baz to use his pent up emotion towards something productive and fantasize about telling Simon how he truly felt. 

Simon was never meant to read it. 

__________________

Was it wrong? Possibly. Was it needed? Most definitely. 

Valentine’s day is this Friday, and both Penny and Agatha are sick and tired of Simon and Baz’s complaining, Simon a lot more than Baz. They just didn’t seem to be able to stop with their lovesick moping and at this point it was ridiculous. Neither of them were courageous enough to make the first move, so it was left to Penny and Agatha to make it happen. 

When Agatha saw the love letter, she knew exactly what to do. 

___________________

Friday was one of the gloomiest days of the week. It was raining, the sky was cloudy, and Simon woke up late and barely had time to run out to Baz’s car to make it to school. Baz threw a fit about it, but Simon couldn’t see why it mattered, considering they still made it there half an hour before school started. Baz complained about how the rain made his hair frizz up as he desperately tried to slick it back again with no avail. Simon liked it better this way, falling loosely around his face in waves, but he didn’t tell Baz that. 

When they arrived, they found that the halls were decorated with bright red and pink hearts and couples stood close together, whispering things in each other’s ears with smiles on their faces as everyone was swept up into the euphoria of Valentines Day. Boyfriends gave their girlfriends roses and cheesy heart shaped boxes filled with chocolate. The hallways were a mess of teenage hormones and whispers of happily ever afters. 

Baz seemed to be in a particularly sour mood today, and Simon didn’t blame him. Valentine’s day was just another one of those made up holidays that encouraged consumerism and made single people feel like shit (at least that’s what Baz had said on multiple occasions). 

Simon and Baz did all the things they usually did in the morning before school. They dropped off Baz’s violin in the orchestra room, they dropped the books Baz finished off at the library, and met up with Penny and Agatha. Agatha gave them all heart shaped lollipops and little handwritten cards that made Simon tear up a little and give her a big hug. Baz rolled his eyes, but he had a small smile on his face as he whispered a curt, “thank you” to Agatha. 

The bell rang. The overhead speakers played some cheesy love songs from the early 2000s, when love songs were in their prime. Baz rolled his eyes and made some sort of snarky remark about the music that made everyone laugh. They walked to class and parted ways, Simon and Penny heading for their math class and Baz and Agatha going towards English. They listened to the monotonous morning announcements and Penny gave Simon a look when he played on his phone instead of paying attention. 

Sighing, Simon pulled out his math textbook, grunting at the weight of it. Most teachers didn’t even issue textbooks to the students, let alone used them. At this point, most of them were out of date and teachers found the internet to be a lot more useful. But not Ms. Ortiz. She refused to use the internet and did everything the old fashioned way: textbooks and a white board. A student tried to talk her into using the smart board, claiming that it would be a lot easier to do notes with, but she refused, saying they didn’t have time to fuss with projectors and calibrations. 

Simon opened up his textbook to the section they were currently working on. He already had the page marked since he and Baz were working on it last night. It was honestly a miracle Simon passed any of his classes before Baz came along. He was such a calm and patient teacher, not caring how many times Simon messed up. It’s funny, because Simon thought he would be the opposite, but he wasn’t. It’s no wonder he wanted to get a teaching degree when he got out of high school.

Penny taps Simon’s shoulder. 

“What now, Pen?” She holds out a white envelope with his name written on it in neat, elegant cursive. 

“This fell out of your bag.” Simon frowns, taking it from her hesitantly. He hasn’t seen it before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was some letter from his teacher addressed to his father that he shoved to the bottom of his bookbag. His bag was always a disaster of crumpled papers that Penny and Baz teased him relentlessly for. They insisted he organize it, but Simon didn’t really see the point. It was just going to become a mess again. 

“Thanks.” Curiously, Simon unfolds the letter, wondering what it might be. He doesn’t remember receiving it at all, so he has no idea what he should expect. 

Immediately, he recognizes Baz’s handwriting:

_ Simon,  _

_ I hate you. I hate the way you make me feel, the way you make my heart beat out of my chest and the way you smile at me in a way that makes me feel special. I hate how you’re always there when I need you and will do everything you can to help someone in need. I hate how you have this stupid hero’s complex where you feel like you need to protect everyone in this goddamn school. I hate how you try to hide your pain from me, putting on a brave face. I want to reach out to you, to comfort you, to let you know that it’s ok and you have people who love and care for you; that you aren’t alone.  _

_ I don’t know what even drove us to befriend each other Freshman year. We were from completely different universes, but somehow you chipped away at my walls until they crumbled into nothing, and I  _ hate  _ you for it. I hate what the sight of you does to me and I know you will never feel the same.  _

_ Simon Snow, you beautiful disaster. How could you be so cruel to make me fall in love with you?  _

  
  


Penny’s looking up at Simon with a curious glance, acting like she isn’t interested when she very much is. Simon doesn’t say anything, just grins widely as he folds the note back up and sets it under his textbook. Penny raises her eyebrow. It’s a skill Simon knows she’s picked up from Baz, but she refuses to admit it. 

“You look like Christmas came early. You feeling alright, Simon?”

“Wonderful.” 

___________________

Simon corners Baz in the hallway at the end of the day as he’s heading to his car. He bounds up to him, looking like a ray of sunshine as he smiles brightly. Something has him in an outrageously good mood and Baz has no idea what that could be.

Baz, on the other hand, isn’t feeling as good. His teachers assigned him an outrageous amount of homework and he got a low mark on one of his quizzes, even though he knew the material and studied before the test. Baz Pitch was not one for failure, and he felt very embarrassed when Agatha pointed it out to him. 

On top of all that, his guilty pleasure love letter to Simon was missing. He hasn’t seen it in two days and he has no idea where it could be, or if it’s in someone else’s hands. Thank god he didn’t sign it. It’s better if nobody knows about his silly crush on Simon. 

“Baz,” Simon breathes, his cheeks dusting with red as he stands in front of Baz, looking up through his wild curls. Baz can barely stop his own blush that rises into his cheeks. 

“Snow. Need a ride?” Simon looks around. 

“Yeah um….” He runs a hand through his curls. “Yeah.” 

They walk out to Baz’s car in silence. Usually, Baz is fine with silence between them. It’s always a comforting silence that doesn’t really have a need to be filled, but something about this silence was different. It was thicker, full of a sort of tension Baz couldn’t quite place. Simon seemed to be anxious about something, as if he were trying to find a way to put it into words. 

Simon Snow is shit with words. He’s gotten better over the years, sure. English class did wonders on him, but he did seem to have a hard time annunciating his feelings in a way Baz could understand. After four years of friendship, Baz is proud to say he can usually interpret Simon’s mutterings, but it wasn’t always like that. Middle school was awful for the both of them and Baz was always frustrated with Simon’s incapability to string together sentences. He was short tempered, and it took him a while to finally give Simon a chance to get out what he needed to say. 

So he did the same now. He didn’t say anything, didn’t pressure him, didn’t force him to say anything. He let the silence stretch on, letting Simon fill it on his own terms when he was ready

They climb into the car and just as Baz is about to put it in reverse, Simon puts his hands over Baz’s, stopping him from leaving. Baz looks up at him, grey eyes meeting blue. There’s a moment of tension, then Simon pulls his hands away. 

“Baz, I—“ Simon stops, furrowing his brow. 

“Go on, Snow.”

“It’s just…. I guess…. I just… Ugh.” Simon pulls at his curls in frustration, his face getting redder by the minute. 

“It’s ok. Calm down. Take your time.” Simon takes a deep breath. 

“It’s just…. I saw your letter.” Baz freezes, going stiff all over. 

“What letter?” 

“The one you wrote to me? And slipped into my bag?” 

_ Oh no.  _

_____________

“Shit.” Baz knocks his head against the steering wheel, groaning. 

“Look, Simon I'm sorry I—“ 

“I feel the same.” 

“What?” Simon gulps. 

“I… I like you too.” Baz scoffs. 

“No you don’t,” he says, leaning back in his seat and brushing his charcoal locks out of his eyes. Simon lays a gentle hand on his arm. 

“Yes I do, Baz.” Silence fills the car. Simon feels like he can’t breathe as each moment stretches on, the only audible sounds being their heartbeats and breaths. 

“I—“ Simon says, averting his gaze as he coughs awkwardly, seeming very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, it must’ve been a mistake I—“ suddenly, so quickly it happens between one blink and the next, Baz grabs his shirt and pulls Simon to him, planting a firm kiss on his lips. Almost as quickly as he leaned in, Baz pulls away. 

But Simon doesn’t let him. He puts his hands on either side of Baz’s face, kissing him with years of pining and desperation. He feels Baz sigh against his lips, bringing his hands up to rest on Simon’s broad shoulders, not daring to move them. Simon threads his fingers through Baz’s hair, marveling at how soft it is. He feels like he’s floating, his heart beating as fast as it can, on the verge of exploding. He doesn’t really mind though. Because he’s kissing Baz.  _ I’m kissing Baz.  _

Simon pulls away, a grin on his face. His face is so open in that moment, so vulnerable. Baz feels a small smile that’s unbearably soft pull at his own lips. 

“I like this version of you, Baz.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“I like it when we aren’t friends.” 

“Wow that’s really nice—“ 

“I wanna be your boyfriend,” Simon says, a wide grin on his face. Baz sucks in a breath, his grey eyes searching Simon’s. 

“Yes,” he says breathily. Simon grins and leans in for another kiss. 

————

“Welbelove this was your doing, wasn’t it?” 

“What ever could you be talking about, my dearest Basilton?” she asks innocently. Baz huffs. 

“You stole my letter! And gave it to Simon!”

“Oh that? It sounds more of a Penny plot to me.” 

“Wellbelove.” 

“Don’t get mad at me, Basil. You got the boy, didn’t you?” Baz can practically hear her wiggling her eyebrows at him over the phone. He’s sitting in his car in Simon’s driveway as Simon walks up to his doorstep. He turns around at the last moment, grinning brightly and waving back at Baz. Baz waves back. 

“I hate you more than you even know, Wellbelove.” 

“Thought so,” she says, hanging up on him. Baz can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. 


End file.
